The illustration above is literally a look inside my mind. That’s a year of journals – April 2012 to April 2013. Now sitting in a landfill. Right before I pitched the entire compendium into a garbage chute, to fall 11 stories into unstoried silence. That was the way I felt – that the thought trains running along my tracks were irrelevant. And plus I would just have to throw them out when Hungary sent me home. Get rid of them now. They hurt – they’re too heavy. So I stacked them, 5 wide, on my coffee table and took video before I pitched them. But my phone was stolen. I wrote pretty much constantly while I was awake. Much of it in email, so I still have that. But of all this – more than doubled, all I have is this picture.
I have another blog, and tried to log into it the other day, but couldn’t remember the password, so I requested a change. They responded by telling me that, as per 2-step verification, a code had been set to my number. A Hungarian number. I have the phone but the battery is dead. The charger is apparently still at the hospital. I’d activated 2-step verification in a fit of delusional paranoia; I don’t, under normal circumstances, even feel safe with security questions. There’s a chance I’ll get them wrong.
The irony is I considered the blog complete, by itself … but there are dozens of posts in the drafts folder that I didn’t publish and don’t have – and right about now, they feel very, very important. So I spent all day yesterday trying to find a human on WordPress. Difficult, but I found, hidden in a deep, dark corner of the netherweb, a form.
I hope it works.